Morning Coffee

The beginnings of man. Sunlight descending on the dawn, Rising on the ashes of time,

The rooster at the height of its powers, Waking the frostbite and the coffee cup.

A swish of the spoon  A lug of cold milk Cows resting in the green pastures

By the stream where we first walked  The long grass fresh in the memory. 

I read a poem by Neruda yesterday,  It moved me, Like a ship in calm water 

Reminding me of the simplicity of life.  How easy it could be. 

Your mouth touching the brown coffee, A cat rustling its tail, 

Deep in the undergrowth,  A fox builds its dominion as the ice freezes the car window.

The journey to dusk beginning to warm me.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is fresh & very original writing. A million poets write about morning coffee, but none ever got near being this unexpected. I love how this poetic prose feels like paint daubs separated by space, over & over, as if just giving the reader the hint of a trail of words to go by (((HUGS)))

[Siveti]

Thanks, I'm glad you like it.